


Obedience Training

by The_Lady_Crane



Series: The Odd Couple [7]
Category: Super Smash Brothers
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Dom/sub, Freaky puffball-on-human sex, Humiliation, I'm Going to Hell, Lemon, M/M, Meta Knight has a sadistic side, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Roleplay, Sex Toys, Slash, Yaoi, cross-species
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9390155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lady_Crane/pseuds/The_Lady_Crane
Summary: Marth asks Meta Knight to give him some extra training, but the prince had no idea Meta Knight could be such a pervert...





	

**Author's Note:**

> So. Meta Knight x Marth. Yup. I know it's not the most popular pairing, but what can I say? I'm obsessed. Yes, Meta Knight is a "puffball" in this. Yes, I am a very sick person. No, I do not apologize for it.

“Focus.”

Marth swallows hard, forcing his eyes frontward. He tries not to let his weakening knees buckle, but they’re already shaking.

“Focus!”

A hand presses into his lower back, and he bites back a whimper. The prince feels humiliated. The longer he waits, though, the less likely it seems that he will be rewarded. He begins to lean forward, just a little, until a deep voice snaps, “Back!” There’s no choice but to resume his original position, the tabletop level with his face and the object of his desire so tantalizingly close that he can smell it.

“It was your idea to train with me,” Meta Knight says, leaning back in his chair and taking another bite of roast beef. “You will submit, or you will give up. The choice is yours.”

Marth doubts that Meta Knight has ever trained anyone like this before. He very much doubts that there’s any real value to this training, but he remains kneeling all the same. His stomach growls, and he tries not to look too closely at the plate in front of him. As another tremor journeys up his arms and legs, Meta Knight finally reaches over and dangles a strip of beef in front of him.

The prince reaches up to grab it, but is immediately reprimanded by a harsh, “No!” He flinches, looking up at the knight murderously. He swears the puffball is smirking behind that mask. “That is not how dogs eat.”

Glaring, his face burning, he opens his mouth to receive the morsel. It’s withheld, though, and Meta Knight locks gazes with him momentarily. Defeated, Marth lowers his eyes and is rewarded with the much-anticipated food. He gets three pieces, held over his head so he has to lean up to catch them between his teeth.

Another period of waiting follows, during which Meta Knight occasionally reaches over to stroke his head. Marth bows to the firm hand, loath to admit that he rather likes the way it feels to have his hair ruffled and his neck rubbed. The tags on his collar clink together when Meta Knight pets him, the sound only increasing his embarrassment. Nothing is keeping him here but his own stubbornness, he reminds himself, as Meta Knight gives him some more food.

Dinner is finally over, and Meta Knight allows him to lick the plate clean – something he’s forced to do with his pert little ass in the air, as the dish is set on the floor before him. Then Meta Knight commands him to roll over, and Marth seriously considers killing him here and now.

He remains kneeling, staring down at the plate in front of him, when Meta Knight grips the back of his head. Marth yelps as he’s rolled onto his back, and Meta Knight presses his other hand against his chest, holding him down for a moment to get his point across.

“You do not seem to take me seriously,” Meta Knight says, easing up on the pressure so he can lightly stroke Marth’s chest. “Perhaps you want to stop.”

Marth looks at him, determination hardening his features. He’s not going to back down. Meta Knight chuckles, a deep rumbling sound that makes Marth shiver in pleasure. “If you want to keep going, you’ll have to do better than this. You’re still fighting me.”

It’s hard for Marth to completely submit, but he does his best as Meta Knight begins to pet him everywhere. The gloved hands start to go a little too far down his abdomen, though, and he turns to the side to stop their progress, a fierce blush on his face. Meta Knight grips his hips and rolls him back again, his hands almost firm enough to leave marks.

“Bad dog,” he says, and this time the smirk is obvious in his voice. Marth closes his eyes and tries to remain still as he’s felt up, but he can’t stop his hips from bucking when something brushes against his half-hard member. “Perhaps you’re not quite into the role enough,” Meta Knight says, standing up and going to the chest at the end of his bed. He rummages around for a minute, his back to Marth as the prince watches curiously. When he turns around, he has something furry in his hand.

“Heel,” Meta Knight commands, and Marth obeys, though his anxiety about the furry thing is growing. Raising his behind into the air is the last thing he wants to do, but he wants to know what the knight has planned. With the snap of a bottle cap, he thinks he has a good idea. Something slippery probes at his entrance, and he whines, sinking down onto his folded arms.

“Good boy,” Meta Knight says, one hand massaging his thigh as the other pushes the toy into Marth’s tightness. Clenched deep inside the prince, the handle of the furry tail anchors it while Meta Knight stands back to admire the sight. He then circles Marth’s prone body, reaching down to place a headband alongside the golden tiara.

Thus outfitted, Marth looks up in confusion. He can’t see what’s been done to him, so Meta Knight reaches for the leash hung over the back of a chair. “Come,” he says once it’s secured, and Marth follows on his hands and knees. When he catches sight of himself in the full-length mirror, he balks. Sporting floppy white ears and a fluffy white tail, he looks like some kind of abomination. All he can do to voice his displeasure is growl, though, and he does with as much venom as he can muster.

“Sit,” Meta Knight says, and Marth tries his damnedest to follow the order. It’s difficult with the rigid spoke inside him, though, and it only slides in further when he sits down. His face is now bright red, and he’s panting already. Wonderful, he thinks, scowling at his reflection. This is a sight Meta Knight is sure to remember for a while.

“I think that will help to remind you of your place,” Meta Knight says, pulling his chair up alongside the prince so the mirror is still in view. He sits, angling himself so the bulge under his skin is right in front of Marth. “You’ve done well for now. You deserve a reward.”

Marth thinks he knows where this is going. He licks his lips, eager for it but burning with shame. Please let the door be locked… He watches, mesmerized, as Meta Knight pulls his cock out of its sheath, working it into a full erection. “Here’s something for you,” he says, his voice only betraying the slightest arousal. “I want you to take it all the way into your throat. You may lick it before hand, but you may not use your hands.”

Meta Knight supports himself with one hand, guiding the bulbous head to Marth’s mouth. The prince glares up at him, but there’s lust in his eyes and Meta Knight knows he would beg for it if he was allowed to speak. He lets himself groan as he’s enveloped in wet heat. Marth is careful not to graze it with his teeth, a task which is easier once the head is on his tongue.

The prince pulls back a few times, lavishing attention on Meta Knight’s cock, licking from the base along the smooth underside, all the way to the tip – he knows this is how Meta Knight likes it. Only after slicking every inch of it does he suck it into his mouth, pulling it in as much as he is pushing himself onto it. He’s only done this a few times, and it’s never easy, but he manages to open his throat to the intrusion.

Meta Knight grips Marth’s hair, pulling him closer as he begins to lose himself. All of his senses are focused on that one point where Marth’s throat spasms around him, at once fighting against him and pulling him deeper. Marth backs away, letting it slide from him as a sudden coughing fit takes hold.

The knight pats Marth’s head, patiently waiting until he is once again taken in. Marth pushes himself to accept the length, opening his mouth as widely as he can and trying to breathe sparingly. It makes him dizzy, and he can feel his throat burning, but he can’t get enough. He feels the tail work its way deeper as he clenches around it, feels the knight’s pleasure as the cock in his mouth swells. He can taste precum, and he takes a moment to lick it out of the tiny slit before angling his neck to accommodate the entire length.

Meta Knight lets himself go, releasing thick spurts down the prince’s throat. Marth pulls away only when his lungs begin to scream for air, suction around the head ensuring that not a single drop is wasted. He’s trembling as he sits back, grinding his hips into the floor to force the tail further inside. It’s not fair, he thinks. He wants to be touched, to be pried open and fucked until he can’t see straight. He whimpers, misty eyes seeking Meta Knight’s in hope of a reward for such good behavior.

Looking down at the prince, Meta Knight can only lean back as he tries to catch his breath. “Good boy,” he manages to say without sounding too weak, his voice wavering as his penis retreats to hide once again. Marth leans into the gentle caress against his cheek, closing his eyes momentarily. When Meta Knight stands up, Marth assumes the begging position, his ass up and his head lowered. He even waves his rear a little, “wagging” his tail.

A low chuckle tells him Meta Knight is pleased, but nothing comes of it. He looks back, finding the knight lying on his bed with a book already open.

Marth whines, loudly. Meta Knight doesn’t move. The prince crawls to him, and puts his head on the mattress. He receives a pat, but is left otherwise disappointed. He whines again, louder this time. Meta Knight ignores him. Marth knows the knight needs to recharge before another round, but he’d been hoping for some foreplay.

Horny and beyond frustrated, Marth moves to stand up. “Remember that if you stand, speak, or use your hands, you forfeit the training,” Meta Knight says without looking up. Marth growls, climbing onto the bed, but is shoved off with a forceful hand. “Dogs don’t belong on the furniture,” the knight says. Marth moans, grinding his hips into the floor and trying to get some friction on his member. As he begins to find pleasure in this motion, he's met with a squirt of water in the face. He looks up, livid, to find Meta Knight holding a squirt bottle. 

Marth is almost beside himself now. He wants so badly to get up, straddle the puffball, and replace the tail with something far more satisfying. His own words come back to haunt him, though: “I can bear up under any treatment.” This challenge had been his own creation, hadn’t it? There’s no way he can back down. Resigned, he leans against the bed and sighs heavily, trying to quell his raging hard-on.

After a while, Meta Knight closes the book and reaches out to ruffle the ears on Marth’s head. “You’re being patient,” he says. “That is one of the principles of a true warrior.”

It’s unbelievable that Meta Knight is still pretending this has anything to do with the “principles of a true warrior”, and Marth rolls his eyes. Luckily, Meta Knight didn’t seem to have caught that gesture. He sits on the edge of the bed and allows Marth to lean against him before ordering him to turn around.

Finally, Marth gets what he’s been aching for. As Meta Knight pushes his thumb into the willing boy, Marth lets out a sigh of relief. The cloth is rough against him, but it’s been coated in lubricant. He waves his hips enticingly, making the tail sway. When Meta Knight’s finished preparing him, Marth thinks he’s ready.

Instead of the tail being removed, though, Marth feels something pressing in alongside it. He looks back, finding Meta Knight standing on the bed and gripping the smooth waist in front of him. He hasn’t even taken off his mask, and it makes Marth shiver to behold its sharp and fierce countenance. When the mask stays on, Meta Knight means business. He’s in it to conquer.

It becomes harder and harder to hold in his voice as he’s stretched further than he’s ever been before. “Mmmn…” Meta Knight stops when the prince moans. The puffball warrior is breathing heavily already, his hands digging into Marth’s pale skin.

“That’s not a proper vocalization for a dog…” he says.

As he slides deeper, carefully working his way in next to the flexible stem of the tail, he’s urged on by the movement of Marth’s hips. The prince is biting his forearm, trying to hold back his cries, but as Meta Knight sheathes himself fully he can’t help whimpering. Meta Knight’s second erection is slower to grow, but it inflates soon enough with Marth’s tightness and the added pressure of the tail. The stem is thin, but it’s enough to create a noticeable difference once Meta Knight is fully engorged.

“Speak,” he commands, and Marth begins to say “Please,” but the first syllable is cut off by a sudden brutal thrust. The prince cries out, his back arching downward. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s almost overwhelming. “That is not how a dog speaks.”

He wants him to bark? Marth can’t believe what a pervert the knight is turning out to be, but he whimpers and tries his best to mimic the bark of a dog. “W- wan! Wan!” Meta Knight almost reprimands him for it, but he vaguely recalls that this is the Japanese onomatopoeia for “woof”, and so it gets a pass. He rewards Marth with a series of slow, deep thrusts that press against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside him, and Marth whines as he pushes back to take it in further.

Every time the knight shoves back in, the ears and tail flop. He likes the sight, so he begins to thrust harder. The side of Marth’s face is pressed against the carpet now, and he’s trembling. Meta Knight knows he wants to be touched, but he also knows the young man is more than capable of reaching orgasm through penetration alone. He seems on the verge already, but he needs just a nudge to shatter his control entirely.

“I thought – hn – I was getting a male dog,” Meta Knight says lowly. “This one… seems like a bitch, though.” Marth gasps, his eyes going wide. Meta Knight has never insulted him like this before. “A bitch in heat,” the knight says, and Marth loses it. He can’t help but cry out as spasms wrack his body. His inner walls pulse around Meta Knight and the tail.

“Nya… Nnnaah…” He remains in the same position, resting most of his weight on his arms and shoulders as Meta Knight starts moving in and out again.

“Now it’s a cat?” Meta Knight chuckles, and Marth glances over his shoulder to glare at him. His body has gone numb as Meta Knight continues to fuck him, and soon he feels a new warmth flowing deep inside him as the knight growls. He sighs, clenching up just enough to enhance Meta Knight’s release, loving the way it fills him.

With Meta Knight’s retreat, the tail slides out and falls to the floor in a pool of cum. Marth collapses as well, laying on his stomach across the floor and panting heavily. “Good boy,” Meta Knight pats his rump as he hops down to the floor. He takes a moment to look down at the prince, who is still shaking. Blue eyes half-lidded in bliss, Marth doesn’t even raise his head. “I think you’ve learned much today,” Meta Knight says, reaching down to release the clasp on the collar. “Good job.”

“You…” Marth murmurs, but he’s unable to form any coherent sentences just yet. Meta Knight helps him onto the bed.

“I’ll draw a bath,” Meta Knight says, covering the prince with his own cape before removing his pauldrons and boots. “Rest until then.”

How strange, Marth thinks. One minute Meta Knight’s calling him a bitch, the next he’s caring for him like someone who’s been ill. “Metanaito-kyou,” he says as Meta Knight steps into the bathroom, “Just… how much of that was real?”

Meta Knight’s eyes flash pink. “Do you mean to say you can’t believe it happened?”

“Ah, no… Only, is that… what you really think of me?”

“No, Your Highness. It was a bit of roleplay. Acting, you could call it.”

Marth blushes, pulling the cape up over his nose and breathing in Meta Knight’s heady scent.

“Would you prefer if we kept this a one-time thing?”

“N- no… I rather… Ah, that is…”

Meta Knight chuckles and returns to the bathroom. Once a warm bath is ready, he retrieves Marth and they sit together in the tub, easing away the mess and the soreness that a bout of rough sex leaves in its wake. “I think… we should keep the collar,” Marth says finally, leaning against Meta Knight and closing his eyes. “The ears and tail, too.”

Meta Knight rubs Marth’s back soothingly. “Let me know whenever you feel you require more training,” he says. “But next time, I expect more obedience.”

“I was obedient!”

“Only with correction, Your Highness.”

“Hmph. I’m not used to such treatment. Give me some slack.”

“Very well. Keep up the attitude, though, and we may just have to see about getting you fixed.”

A smacking sound echoes around the bathroom. Meta Knight only laughs to himself. He deserved that one.

 


End file.
